


Reservations

by TietjensGirl



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tom Hardy Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TietjensGirl/pseuds/TietjensGirl
Summary: Eames is sex on legs. Do I need to say more?





	Reservations

Eames doesn't date. The process is laborious and pointless - even if he wanted a mate, bringing someone into this way of life is needlessly cruel. He's many things, but needlessly cruel isn't one of them. What he needs now is physical, he needs release. A quick shag is easy enough to get. A winsome smile, a tongue swiped across lush lips, an "absentminded" unbuttoning of his shirt to reveal muscled pecs covered in wisps of chest hair....getting attention is never difficult. If he's being honest, though, it's boring as hell. It's too easy at this point to convince someone to bring him off, to find a willing body to writhe beneath him as he chases his own pleasure. Tonight, it's different. Ever since Ariadne had introduced him to dating apps, he'd been putting a plan into place - namely a merry chase to whet his appetites before heading back to Mombasa.

Tonight's mark is beautiful, of course, but not the sort of woman he'd forge. She's brunette and on the petite side; probably a little closer to Ariadne's build than he'd care to admit. They'd chatted back and forth for a few days, trading innuendo and small talk over mobile devices before deciding to meet. Eames choose a trendy but romantic little bistro along the river known for its wine list and seductive atmosphere, and the net was cast. He's dressed in a dark, well tailored suit with a crisp white shirt and a shocking pink pocket square, preferring a more Savile Row sartorial style since the Fischer job. A sculpted physique is apparent through the light fabric of the suit and a final spritz of his most sensual cologne ensures she'll be taken with him. It isn't that he's cocky, not really, he's just confident. The best forger in the game, and one doesn't get there by not knowing how to get into someone's head. One more flip of the poker chip between his fingers - one can never be too careful- and Eames leaves for the restaurant.

She's standing on the walk in front of the building when he arrives, and contrary to what he's heard about how people present themselves online, she's as beautiful as her profile photo. Short, wavy, caramel hair, curvaceous body dressed simply in a deep eggplant wrap dress, full lips, limpid brown eyes, and ....oh fuck. Killer black stiletto heels. His cock twitched, had he mentioned his penchant for high heels? Another quick check of his totem proves he is indeed awake. Oh yes, this would be a merry chase indeed.

His voice practically purred as her name fell from his lips, "Genevieve?"

Her gaze shifted from the passerby and a look of surprised appreciation flickered across her features. "Daniel?" 

"Yes." _For tonight, at least._ "It's a pleasure to meet you."  Ever the gentleman, he offers his arm. "Shall we go inside?"

Taking his arm, she lets him guide her toward the bar to wait for a table. The bartender brings their cocktails; Eames had lofted a bawdy eyebrow at her when she ordered an extra dirty vodka martini. Sipping his whiskey, he peppers her with questions about work, books, theater, life. Everyone loves to talk about themselves and getting her to open up now will make bedding her all the easier later. It surprises him when she mentions Cat On A Hot Tin Roof - his favorite movie - it turns out she's witty and smart and they have a lot in common.

During a lull in the conversation Genevieve muses "It's a pity we have to wait." Eames smiles and nods his agreement, he's purposefully made the reservation later than they'd planned so as to have more time to lay the groundwork. 

"Tell me, Genevieve, how did you know to wear such delicious footwear? Malone Soulier, I believe?" 

"How did I know? I'm all of 5-foot-nothing so I generally wear heels to avoid feeling like a Hobbit." She leans in closer and traces the veins on his hand with her fingertips, he's overwhelmingly sexy and she's flirting more than she should. "How on earth did you know they were Souliers?"

His laugh is a low chuckle but his smile is wide, "Darling, one should make a study of anything that intrigues. Designer shoes are an admitted weakness of mine, especially on a beautiful woman." His gray eyes darken slightly as he begins to trace circles on the top of her knee.

Her breath hitches and she starts to speak, only to be interrupted by a tall, blonde hostess. "Your table is ready, Mr. Jones." Clearly appreciating Eames for herself, the hostess touches the hollow of her throat and bites her bottom lip. His brain copies her face and mannerisms for later use, but he pays her no real attention. Genevieve seems to notice and responds by taking Eames' hand and positioning herself closer to his bulk as they stand away from the bar. A wide smile stretches across his face and he brings her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss and letting his lips graze across her knuckles. The shiver he causes is visible - _this may be too easy_.

The dining room is dimly lit by candles in blood red holders atop crisp white tablecloths, exposed brick walls and black wrought iron accents add an edge of danger to the sensual atmosphere. As requested, Eames is escorted to a booth in the back corner. Genevieve sits with her back to the wall and gives him a small smile. 

"Darling," he purrs, "I must admit sitting with my back to a room full of people leaves me feeling awfully exposed. Would you mind terribly if I scoot in beside you?" He's spent too many years being chased and hunted to leave himself so vulnerable, but she needn't know that. He pitches his raspy baritone a bit lower and leans toward her, "plus, it's awfully romantic...don't you agree?"

A small pull of teeth across his bottom lip causes her eyes to darken, "of course" she breathes. 

"Splendid." Sliding in next to her he asks, "Luv, would you think me too forward if I asked to order for the both of us?"

His study of her profile and their electronic communications showed her to be a strong woman with a few old-fashioned leanings. She was a senior executive for a mid-size software company where she kept long hours. A Google search showed her to be on the boards and volunteer rosters of several local charities, she was used to giving orders and having them followed. Strong women were a must for Eames, but he knew that most women enjoyed being pampered a bit, a man who would happily take charge when needed.

A quizzical smile crossed her lips. "Um, sure Daniel. I assume you'll not lead me astray."

"Quite the contrary, darling. I hope you'll be pleasantly surprised. No allergies I should worry about?"

"None at all."

A tall man in a crisp white apron approached the table. "Good evening. I'm Terrance and I'll be taking care of you this evening. Would you care to hear the specials?"

"No, thank you Terrance. The lady and I will each have another drink while I look over the menu. Dirty vodka martini for my beautiful date - extra olive juice please - and another Tullamore for me."

"Of course, sir. I'll be back in a moment with your drinks."

"The service here is quite good," Eames muses aloud. _Measure a man by how he treats his inferiors_.

"You've been here before?" Genevieve asks.

"Once or twice, always on business," he lies, smoothly. He can't remember the last time he was in London, certainly not the last time he was in a restaurant there. _Long before Mombasa, that's for sure._

Their drinks are delivered, and Eames orders an impressive spread of food. Three courses of the restaurant's signature small plate items to be delivered in meticulous succession at his behest. The first course arrives and the pair take a bite.

"Oh...my. This is delicious! I've never had anything so tasty in my mouth before."

Eames casts a sultry smile in her direction. "Is that so?" His tone is teasing and she rises to it.

"Oh, you are wicked. You know what I mean, Daniel. Honestly, is everything innuendo with you?"

"You started it, luv. And yes, I am rather wicked, though I've yet to receive a complaint." She giggles and takes another sip of her drink as he lifts another morsel from a plate. "You must try the dates, they really are divine." He's practically purring again and it's affecting her just as he'd planned. She shifts slightly in her seat as he raises his hand to her mouth. Their eyes lock as she accepts the bite, lips closing around the tips of his fingers. Her eyes close as she makes a tiny mewl of pleasure.

"Oh those are lovely. Would you care for one?" She mimics his action, lifting a bite to his lips. He accepts the date and lets his mouth close over her fingers, touching his tongue to her finger tips and leveling a seductive gaze. It works, her eyes blow a bit wider and she shifts closer to his body. Their knees are touching again and Eames drops a hand to her thigh, tracing small circles with his thumb.

The evening proceeds in the same manner, each feeding the other small bites with fingers lingering ever longer in the other's mouth. A small dollop of creamy sauce from one dish catches on her mouth, Eames cleans it away with a finger across her lip. The touch is electric and erotic and suddenly he feels a change in the air. Leaning in, he breathes kisses along her jaw before claiming her mouth. Her hands reach up and push softly against his chest; confused, he pulls away.

"I am sorry, have I crossed a line?" _Where did I misstep?_

A smile crosses her face. "No, but you've passed a test. Kiss me again"

 _Cheeky minx._ Always obliging, he leans closer again, brushing full lips across hers as she opens to his kiss. A swipe of his tongue as their lips move in concert, his hand moving slowly up her thigh under her dress, her breathing quickens and he smiles. A thick thumb traces across the apex of her thighs where he finds a pleasing dampness in the fabric. Sitting back slightly, she sighs at the loss of that sinful mouth against her own. "If I told you I had dessert at my flat....?" he prompts, sure of her answer now.

"I'd say you ARE very forward, Mr. Jones. But let's get out of here anyway."

 ***

She's suitably impressed with the flat he's "rented" for the week. In reality it's all too easy to find businessmen who keep flats for trysts with mistresses, just a quick double check to be sure they don't share the deed then wait for them to leave town; Arthur's advice had been unusually helpful this time. There's no lock Eames can't open, and no security system he can't find a way around. She's got her back against a wall, his tongue against her ear, and his fingers against her sex when suddenly she is shy. He slows the pace asking "can I offer you a drink, darling?"

"Yes, please. Wine? Any sort is fine."

Taking her hand in his, he leads her into the kitchen. "Let's see what I have, then." The wine rack is stocked rather well, another point in Arthur's favor. Two glasses of Malbec are poured, one is offered to Genevieve.  _Phase 2, time for the big guns now_ _. Wow, that's cheesy even for me._

She's watching, as he'd planned, as his suit jacket is shed, his tie loosened and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. He can see her gaze rake over his form as he leans against the counter and takes a long drink of the wine in his glass. "I'm going to be forward again, but do you see anything you like?" Her teeth worry into her bottom lip as she nods. His eyes darken and his stare becomes predatory as he crosses to where she stands. Placing his hands on the counter behind her waist, she's caught. His lips tease at hers again but this time it doesn't stop there. Her tongue clashes with his as passion spikes for them both. He can't help one more check of the poker chip in his pocket, the edge cuts into his palm the way he expects and he sighs relief, though she interprets it as lust.

Moans of pleasure fill the kitchen now, her hips grinding into his in search of friction while her fingers make short work of the buttons on his expensive silk shirt. He sheds it and her eyes grow wide, delicate fingers tracing along the tattoos.

"You never mentioned these, Daniel."

Eames lets his eyes close and he revels in her touch for just a moment. "I find it best to leave them as a surprise. People harbor prejudices of which I cannot disabuse them unless we meet. One ought to have a few secrets, don't you agree?"

"I do, Daniel. I absolutely do." Emboldened, Genevieve traces a hand along the firm planes of his muscled chest, down across his stomach and trails a single finger along the swath of hair leading below his belt. He shivers at the touch of her delicate fingers against the sensitive skin. Passion flames again and his hands are on her neck, drawing her closer to burn hot kisses against her lips and jawline. She undoes the buckle on his belt as he unties the ribbon at her waist. The dress falls open, revealing a black-lace-over-cream-satin bra and matching panties. Her body is curvy and soft against the hard planes of his own, shapely hips and lovely breasts. Beautiful, of course, but it's the tattoos on her thighs that truly draw his attention.

His breath leaves in a huff and he purrs again, "Genevieve. You do surprise me." His fingers trace along the lacy artwork, her ink mimics the tops of thigh high stockings and it's hot as hell.

Shedding the dress as she turns in his arms, she whispers, "if that catches your attention..." On her back there are typeset letters artfully arranged between her shoulder blades. ' _piercing joy, that leaves me empty, conquered, silenced'_ A glance over her shoulder to look him in the eye rewards her instantly.

"Anais Nin?" _I have underestimated her, my own game and she's winning._ His hands cup her breasts as his lips find her neck and he breathes " _I want it, I can’t resist it, my whole being melts in one kiss, my knowledge melts, my fears melt, my blood dances, my legs open"_. One hand turns her toward him as he places a searing kiss on her lips. 

Chuckling and eyes sparkling, she grabs his tie and pulls him closer somehow. "Why don't you show me the bedroom, Mr. Jones?" 

Her feet suddenly leave the ground as he lifts her to him and settles her legs around his waist. "This way, you vixen." He's suddenly harder than he can remember being and her lips against his scorch like flame. Reaching the bedroom takes no time at all and he places her carefully on the bed. Genevieve tries to move toward the headboard, but Eames grabs her roughly by the knees. "No no, stay here and lay back." His voice is commanding and she readily obeys.

Leaning back onto her elbows while he divests her of the satin panties, slowly pulling them down her legs. "You don't mind if I leave the shoes on, do you?" he asks, but he has no intention of letting her answer. As she begins to speak, his hands are pushing her thighs apart and his tongue delves into her already wet center. 

The pain on his scalp as she pulls his hair is exquisite. His tongue dances along her folds in languid strokes and quick licks against her clit, her hips are grinding against his face and she's moaning loudly. It's erotic and overwhelming and his plan is simple - leave her wrecked. Confidence is never a problem for Eames, and it's doubly true for his sexual prowess. Occupying a woman's body as often as he has, he's learned a trick or two and gets in practice whenever possible. Full lips close over her sensitive bud and he sucks as hard as he can, causing her back to arch off the bed and her moans turn to sharp cries. Two thick fingers enter her wet heat as he continues his assault on her clit and it's enough to drive her over the edge. She's tight and strong and his fingers don't stop fucking her even as he can feel the contractions of her orgasm. Other men would stop, not Eames; she's a game and he wants the high score. Adding a third finger, sliding in and out and curling his against her walls looking for the small bundle of nerve endings that will leave her breathless and begging. She's moaning and writhing and pulling his hair like a woman possessed and damn if it isn't hot enough to make him cum against the side of the bed. 

Just as he thinks he's about to lose it, a raw scream rips from her throat. "Yes, pet, that's it. Cum for me again." His fingers stretching her and hitting her most sensitive spot coupled with a brush of lips and that purring voice sets off the reaction he's been aiming for. A sudden rush of wetness against his hand and tongue and he's thinking _oh yes. That's the stuff._ He's lapping it up like honey when she looks down her body, a self congratulatory smile splits his face as their eyes meet. 

"I...you....oh my god..I have never cum like that in my life" she stutters. 

"I've just started, darling... you can call me a god later" and he presses one last kiss to her center before crawling up her body. Her skin feels like satin beneath his lips, he can't help but kiss and lick and nip at her belly as she sits up. 

Their remaining clothes are shed in haste as they kiss and grope and grind into each other. He's so hard it's painful now and every touch she lays upon him drives his lust further. A sure but soft hand reaches down between his legs and delicate fingers wrap around his cock. "I believe I was promised dessert?" she teases, brushing her thumb over his leaking tip.  


"By all means, please." She settles in between his strong thighs, kissing and nipping at the skin there as one hand slowly pumps up and down his length. The tables are turned, and now it's Eames moaning low in his throat with his hands tangled in her tresses. Her tongue dances across the tip, mouthing at the ridge while her still pumping hand moves the foreskin down and away. Propped up on his elbows, Eames is delighted by the sight of her full mouth around his member, head bobbing up and down and making him feel like he's going to melt or jump out of his skin. The little moans of pleasure she's making feel delicious around his cock, his head tips back in ecstasy. Hips threatening to leave the mattress even though he's fighting to keep some sort of gentlemanly restraint.

She lifts off with a popping sound, and he groans out loud. An almost sinister smile spreads across her face and she whispers, "It's ok, Daniel. Fuck my mouth, I don't mind."  His eyes go wide, she's back on him in second, the suction too much to bear as she takes him completely down. Delicate fingers massage at the skin of his perineum and his restraint falls away. Thrusting into her mouth and chasing his own pleasure, he's watching her stare up at him through her lashes and goddamit it's so good; he's lost. 

"I'm...Genevieve..." but it's too late. He's pumping thick and hot into her mouth and _fuck me, she's taking it_. No complaints, no smack against his leg, just swallowing him down and proper enjoying it. She peppers kisses and massages the muscles in his thighs before rocking back onto her heels and staring right into his eyes.

"I may have left out a skill set or two when we spoke." Her grin is lascivious and beautiful and completely disarming. 

"Well your work is much appreciated, darling." His tone is light but his brain is sounding klaxon alarms... _where is my chip? Fuck it...._ "I want to hear you make those noises again." Reaching down, he lifts her to straddle his lap and begins kissing her like she's oxygen. His pace is slow again, he needs time to recover, but his kisses are relentless. Plump lips ghost against hers, his tongue stroking gently along the seam, coaxing her mouth open. He can taste himself as he licks into her open mouth, knowing she'll be able to taste herself on his lips as well feels pretty hot. His hands caress her spine and settle on her hips, encouraging the slow roll she's started against him. Little mewls of pleasure escape her throat as he works his way along her jaw to the shell of her ear. Hands kneading her breasts as he whispers "god, you are beautiful. Do you feel me against you now? I need inside you." Pure, erotic filth tumbles from his lips now that he knows she's as willing to push boundaries as he is. The heat of her sex straddled over his slowly hardening cock is driving him mad. "Inside you, I need inside you now."

He's strong and there's very little he enjoys more than showing off that strength. Grabbing her around the waist, he lifts her up and tosses her carelessly onto her back, making her giggle. His answering smile is wide as he comes to his knees between her thighs before pressing his weight onto her. More slow, wet kisses while one hand traces against her center before swiping the pad of his thumb across her clit. She's still practically dripping. 

"So wet, all for me? How delicious, darling. Can you feel what you've done? How hard I am?" 

"For God's sake, Daniel," she's panting and pressing her hips against his, "just fuck me already." Desperation leaks into her voice. "Please..."

Teasing her, he rubs his cock against her clit once, twice, before slamming into her. He can feel the pain of nails down his back but it only serves to push his lust higher. She's writhing again, a stream of unintelligible moaning and curses falling from her lips as his pace quickens. 

"Yes, please, don't stop...."

"Oh darling...you can't be done just yet." His pace slows, he's moving just enough to keep her panting but slow enough to keep his restraint. One large hand moves to caress her thigh before bringing her leg up to his shoulder and sinfully plush lips tease at the skin of her ankle. He'd almost forgotten about the heels and fuck if they didn't make him even harder. "These shoes really are exquisite."

"Daniel, please. Please." 

_ She's begging. Mission accomplished.  _ "Of course, pet. Whatever you say." His hips snap against her and she squeals in pleasure as he moves her leg just enough to change the angle. He knows now where her most sensitive spot is and he's sure to draw the head of his cock against it. She feels so tight and wet, her legs wrap around his waist and suddenly he's deeper and she shatters. Her quivering cunt clenches so hard against him he tumbles after, spilling into her as he cums with a cry of her name. 

Her arms wind around his waist and she traces her fingers against his muscled back. It's intimate and sweet and too much for him so he rolls off and lays beside her.

"Well pet, that was truly amazing."

"You weren't so bad yourself, Daniel."

"Oh, I know." She smiles and slaps his chest gently. 

"Cheeky bastard. Will I see you again?"

_No._ "Would you like to?"

"After that? Are you kidding? You're a cocky arse but it's certainly merited." A yawn escapes as she speaks.

"Cheeky. Go to sleep, beautiful _."_ He drops a kiss onto her lips, then pulls the covers over their still intertwined bodies. Sated, sleep takes her easily.

***

A sweet note and a cup of coffee are all that greet Eames early the next morning. 

_'Had I not created my whole world, I would certainly have died in other people’s.' Thank you for being a part of my world, even if only for a moment. You gave me  a merry chase. XXXX OOOO_

He cannot help but smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
